


Six Steps To Finding Your Place In The World

by keelywolfe



Series: Spicyhoney Standalones [16]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Underfell (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Underswap (Undertale), Angst, Breaking Up & Making Up, Depression, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Underfell Papyrus (Undertale), Underfell Papyrus/Underswap Papyrus (Undertale), Underfell Sans (Undertale), Underswap Papyrus (Undertale), Underswap Sans (Undertale), Undertale Monsters on the Surface
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:41:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23237128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keelywolfe/pseuds/keelywolfe
Summary: It's been three years since the other Universes found their way through the barrier and to the surface. Underfell might be running late, but they made it, and Edge is left searching for his place in this new world.
Relationships: Papyrus/Papyrus (Undertale), Spicyhoney
Series: Spicyhoney Standalones [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1925041
Comments: 45
Kudos: 139





	Six Steps To Finding Your Place In The World

* * *

_First Step_

It was fascinating, in a way, to see how much could change in only three years. 

Three years since the other Universes found their way to the surface, each led by a Human child whose mercy brought Monsters from the Underground. Three years since Undertale and Underswap walked out into the sunshine for the first time and left the mountain behind. Three years that it had taken Underfell to do the same, for a world of Monsters who knew only violence to find enough peace in their souls for their Human to break the barrier. 

Three years since he’d seen the others. The other skeletons, Sans and Papyrus, Stretch and Blue. 

Stretch. 

Edge’s first sight of the sun was awe-inspiring, worthy of contemplative silence and he stood at the cliffside gazing at it even as the others from Underfell chattered excitedly around him. The sun, the surface, he’d never expected to see either. Just as he’d never expected to see anyone from the other Universes again. Monsters leaving the Underground and the breaking of the barrier meant the source of magic for the Machine would be gone; there would be no traveling between the other worlds. No visits, no gatherings to fight over what movie to watch. No nights spent with a slim, warm skeletal body curled up next to him in his bed, watching Stretch sleep. 

It was done, over, a gift borrowed for the briefest of time. Until they managed to get to their shared surface world, led by a smiling child. 

Edge never expected to be standing in a house in the dubiously named New New Home, surrounded by other skeletons who greeted him and Red with varying levels of excitement. 

“It’s so wonderful that you’re finally here!” Blue burbled excitedly. He was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt proclaiming him to be a ‘Smol Boi!’, and how strange it was to see him and Papyrus both no longer wearing their battle bodies. It made Edge unfairly aware of his own uniform, somewhat ragged from being constantly worn and dirtied from traveling to the Above. 

“yeah, ‘bout time you two got here,” Sans drawled. “we weren’t gonna hold dinner forever, y’know. glad you decided to show up, now we can _ketchup_.” His clothing was newer but at least familiar, a hoodie and shorts, slippers abandoned for sneakers.

“Dinner,” Edge agreed, somewhat weakly. Truthfully, he was exhausted. He’d had no rest since the final...battle? He wasn’t sure what to call it; his memories were dreamily blurred and he’d woken to find the barrier destroyed and the surface world waiting for them. 

“Do not pay attention to my brother!” Papyrus declared. “There is no need for us to hold dinner, we have a perfectly fine table to put it on!” His own ‘Tall Boi!’ t-shirt was a partner to Blue’s. No sharpie scribbles on these ones, they were properly made and fitted. All of them were dressed in proper clothes that weren’t scrounged from the dump to be carefully patched and repaired. Even the one person who didn’t greet them. 

Standing on the far side of the living room, leaning against the stair bannister. Edge met his gaze, pale white eye lights looking impassively back.

Three years. 

Looking at Stretch was reminiscent of his first sight of the sun and he wanted to drink it in, to bask in the sight of him. Gone was the well-worn hoodie and cargo pants of Underswap. He was wearing khakis and an orange plaid button down with a plain white t-shirt beneath. It looked good on him, but it wasn’t his clothes that Edge wanted to see.

The others crowded around them and Edge only looked at Stretch, no longer hearing any of their excited exclamations or puns. He stood watching as Stretch silently turned around and walked away, slipping out the front door. 

Blue at least noticed him leaving. His cheery smile faltered briefly, then came back with forced enthusiasm. “Don’t mind Papy, I’m sure he’ll be back soon! You two must be exhausted, goodness, yes! I remember what it was like,” he trailed off, uncertainly, “um, I think! It was all very confusing. But come on, let me show you your rooms!”

He allowed Blue to pull him upstairs, still chattering, Red following up behind and Papyrus at his heels. 

The bedroom he was given was plain, utilitarian, but the bed was made and felt incredibly soft on his aching bones as he laid down on it without even stripping off his dirty uniform. He was asleep from almost the moment his skull hit the pillow, dreamless and deep.

It would be some time before he saw Stretch again and by then, it was mostly over with, anyway.

* * *

_Second Step_

The next morning, he rose guiltily at nearly noon to find a neat pile of clothing sitting on the room’s sole chair. With it was a note written in Papyrus’s fierce handwriting, again welcoming him to their new home and offering the clothes to borrow until Edge was able to get some of his own. 

With some trepidation, he unfolded the stack and was relieved to find it was merely a pair of jeans and a plain white t-shirt. He dressed quickly, venturing downstairs to find the living room empty and music coming faintly from a nearby room.

Warily, he pushed open the door to find Blue standing on a stepstool, singing brightly along with the music as he washed dishes. The words weren’t ones Edge understood and reminded him of the anime that Undyne was so fond of, the tones of singsong happiness filling the air.

“Good morning,” Edge called, loud enough to be heard over the cheer. Then he lunged forward to catch hold of Blue before he fell off the stepstool as he nearly shrieked in surprise. The three of them wobbled together, him, Blue, and the stepstool, in a strange parody of a dance before they caught their balance, gravity thwarted.

“Oh, my, you scared the life out of me,” Blue laughed. A bright flush lit in his cheeks, the color a match to his namesake and Edge realized he was still holding Blue in his arms. Hastily, he drew back, a flush warming his own cheeks.

“My apologies, I didn’t mean to--”

Blue waved him off before he could even finish, hopping down to shoo him into one of the kitchen chairs. “Nonsense, it wasn’t your fault! Sit, sit, let me make you some breakfast, you must be starving!”

The mere mention of food sent his magic eagerly roiling, but simply taking a meal with no way of repaying did not sit well with Edge. He was already borrowing a place to sleep and the clothing on his back. At least in the Underground he’d been able to trade meal for meal with the others.

But he also did not currently have another option. 

“If you’ll let me borrow some ingredients, I can cook myself,” Edge offered. It was a weak compromise at best, but made the idea of borrowing easier to swallow.

A concept that Blue dismissed with a scoff, setting a frypan on what looked to be a very nice stove, indeed. “Borrowing, don’t be silly! We all share here, that’s the way we like it! And it’s no trouble at all to make another breakfast, you just sit there, I’m sure you’re still getting your bearings.” Blue chuckled as he began rummaging through the refrigerator. “I may as well make extra, anyway, your brother always had a good appetite! Maybe the smell will entice him down.”

“That always seemed to work for your brother, perhaps he’ll come down as well,” Edge said. It dredged up memories he’d pushed aside for some three years now, of Stretch sound asleep, his face slowly scrunching up as the smell of coffee and delicious food wafted to him. It was doubtful he was even fully awake when he rolled to his feet and began shambling after it, and true wakefulness only came after at least one cup of coffee. There had been more than one morning of that in Underfell and Underswap alike and Edge began to brace himself to see Stretch again. 

Blue froze for a moment, his smile faltering. “Oh, um. Papy’s already gone to work this morning.”

That...that was unexpected, and Edge couldn’t say what expression was on his face as Blue said with uncommon gentleness, “Of course you wouldn’t know. He’s a teacher. Well, a professor, really, he and Sans work at the community college.”

“They’re both teachers?” Edge blurted and it was impossible to keep the disbelief from his voice.

“Professors,” Blue corrected lightly. He cracked eggs into the hot pan with a loud sizzle. “Papy is always reminding me of that. And of course, they do have their PhD’s!”

That was true, they did, and yet, both of them worked as sentries and food vendors underground instead of putting those degrees to use, with an occasional side trip into standup comedy. That mental image was due for an upgrade, it seemed, disorienting as it was. 

Before Edge could ask anything else, the toaster popped up and Blue was bustling over to it, snatching up the toast and adding it to the plate. In no time, it was slid in front of Edge, two pieces of well-buttered toast, eggs cooked perfectly over easy, and a side of what Edge knew to be bacon though he’d never had it before, cooked to what he was sure was crisp perfection. 

Again, his memories weren’t matching up to what he was seeing. Blue and Papyrus both cooked with enthusiasm but very little skill and more than once they’d all spent an evening gamely chewing their way through lasagna or spaghetti that managed somehow to be both overcooked and still crunchy in the same mouthful. His own cooking skills were only marginally better and only because he was more accustomed to making do with whatever provisions could be found. 

This offering was worthy of a Mettaton special and Blue was beaming at him, waiting for him to begin. 

Slowly, Edge picked up his fork. He cut into the egg, the yolk bursting and bleeding its sunny yellow over the plate. It was delicious and Edge didn’t allow the faint nausea muddying his magic to stop him from eating every bite.

* * *

_Third Step_

It was four days after his first meal Aboveground and well past midnight when Edge was sitting up in the living room alone, watching the television. 

Underground the only channels were ones of Mettaton, for live shows and reruns. The sheer amount of things to watch here was boggling, almost disturbingly so. Netflix alone could fill years’ worth of time. 

Edge was starting on the third season of Stranger Things when the front door opened and Papyrus came in. He was in his chef’s uniform, still nearly pristine despite his long shift. 

His coat was halfway off before he saw Edge and he blinked in surprise, “Oh! Good evening!”

“Good evening,” Edge didn’t move, his gaze on Hopper as he began to argue with the girl-child El about her spending time with that foolish boy. 

It was what he’d been doing all day, episode after episode, until even the television asked him if he wanted to continue watching. All Edge did was press the button to resume the program and settled back on the sofa. 

His peace at seeing the sun for the first time had morphed into this, days where he was at loose ends with nothing to do, no place to go. Blue had a cleaning schedule well established for the house, the others all had their jobs, his brother was venturing to the college with Sans and whether or not he chose to dust off his own PhD, Edge was certain he would find a use for himself. 

Even Undyne was tentatively starting to work for the Embassy, although when she’d called, she’d told Edge with a laugh that she’d decided Felldyne was a damned stupid name and she’d be going with Dyna, instead. Really, it had been an unsubtle invitation for him to join her and Edge had very unsubtly refused. Babysitting duty for ex-royalty held no appeal for him and by the end of the call, he still hadn’t remembered to call her by her new name. 

The surface world had no call for an ex-captain of the guard; his entire life’s goal, the title he strove so hard to be worthy of vanished with a single step into the sunshine. And the other option--

“Have you given any more thought about coming to the restaurant with me?” Papyrus asked brightly. “Because the owner has said that even without training, he trusts my judgement and he is sure you will be an excellent addition to our team and of course won’t burn the restaurant down on your first day.”

“I will consider it,” Edge said, for perhaps the tenth time, and every time he had no intention of doing any such thing. 

Papyrus only nodded, taking off his shoes and lining them up at the door. He tutted and shook his head at the two sets of sneakers jumbled into a pile, Sans and Red’s, and lined them up as well. Guilt rose heavily in Edge’s soul, he’d been sitting here all day and night and never thought to straighten them himself, been here for nearly a week, consuming their food and taking their shelter, offering nothing in return and--

“Just so you know, if you’re waiting up, he won’t be home tonight.” That jarred him from his circling thoughts and Edge finally glanced at Papyrus, meeting what was surely a gratingly pitying look.

“I beg your pardon?” Edge said stiffly. “I don’t believe I asked about anyone.”

“Of course you didn’t!” Papyrus said with that relentless cheer. “But if you had, I would tell you that tonight is Astronomy club night and people that we aren’t asking about don’t come home or if they do, they don’t use the front door because some other people can’t sleep through it opening and closing, even if they try to be very, very quiet!”

Edge only returned his gaze to the television, picking up the controller to change the program. Papyrus started up the stairs before he said, quietly, “Thank you.”

“It will be all right, you’ll see. You’re on the surface!” Papyrus said cheerily. “Things are better here!”

Edge leaned back on the sofa to watch a cartoon sponge attempt to make some sort of hamburger. It was the closest he wanted to get to being a chef.

* * *

_Fourth Step_

“he’s not seeing anyone. if you were wondering.”

Edge was not wondering about that at all. What he was doing was attempting to see what it was about naps that his brother had always found so enticing over the years. Thus far, all Edge was learning was that he was as terrible at this as anything else on the surface. 

He rolled over to glare at Sans, who only looked back peaceably, his ever-present smirk unchanged. It would be pointless to pretend he didn’t know what Sans was referring to and in the interest of getting this over with, Edge told him shortly, “I gave up my right to wonder about that some three years ago.”

That smile tightened, Sans’s eye lights shrinking. “yeah, i know. we all know.” He tucked his hands into his pockets, rocking back and forth from toes to heels. “he took it real hard. i mean, who wouldn’t. thought you guys were the real deal and then one day the kids show up and our worlds break through to the surface. he comes to me and says he’s gonna stay in the underground with you. asked me to look after his bro for him, said he couldn’t leave you and red alone. but the next day, he comes back and he’s got nothing to say at all. not for a long time.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Edge said hoarsely. He didn’t want to imagine it. He had enough memories of his own from that day. 

Sans only shrugged. “dunno. thought you might be curious, is all.”

“Thank you ever so much for your help then, if you’ll excuse me.” Edge rolled back over, giving Sans his back even as warnings crawled up his spine, his brother’s voice, _never turn your back on anyone, ever, fucking never._

A loud snort. “yeah, you look real busy. i’ll let you get back to that.”

Soft footsteps that led out his door, the click of it closing. Edge curled around his pillow, holding it tightly to where his soul was aching, dull and heavy.

Edge ignored it, tried to ignore it all. He was napping. All of that was old news and it had been for the best. The memory of Stretch’s expression, of his tears when Edge shouted at him to get out of his world and his life, weren’t what was important. What was important was that Stretch didn’t waste his life in Underfell where they were never meant to reach the surface. Stretch deserved sunshine and Edge was never supposed to be able to offer it.

* * *

_Fifth Step_

“all right, get the fuck out of bed.”

Edge snarled as the covers were ripped off him, leaning up on one elbow to glare at his brother. A useless attempt, Red only glared back, blankets dangling from his grip as his gaze swept over Edge in a brutally unimpressed assessment.

With a groan, Edge flopped back on the mattress and closed his sockets, “Go away.”

He heard his brother sigh. “bro. never thought i’d be saying this. you need to get out of this house.”

Edge didn’t open his sockets. “What’s the point?”

“what was the point of coming to the surface at all?” Red countered. “you wanted to stay in the fucking underground waiting for your turn in a dustpan? go out, see the sights! go check out those cockmobiles you were always so eager to see, take ‘em out on a test drive. we’ll be getting our stipends by the end of the week.”

Thinking about that made a sour taste form at the back of his mouth, slimy and bitter. “Charity.”

“more like socialism,” Red snorted loudly, shoving his hands into his pockets. At that moment, his resemblance to Sans was eerie, especially the way he was intruding on Edge’s life. “but whatever, it’s money for all monsters, not all monsters except your scrawny ass. get up and go spend some of it.”

“On what?” Edge asked listlessly. “There’s nothing here I want. Give it to Blue to put towards groceries and let me sleep.”

“nope, you’re done sleeping. get up.” He heard the ting of blue magic at the same moment Red used his hold on Edge’s soul to yank him from the bed, dumping him to the floor. He sat up, spitting curses that only drew a chuckle from his brother, asshole that he was.

“I don’t need to get up,” Edge snapped. “There is nothing to get up for! I’m nothing here! Useless!”

The slap caught him so by surprise he didn’t even summon an attack, too busy gaping at his brother. Slowly, Edge raised a hand, touching his stinging cheek bone wonderingly. In all their years in Underfell, despite anything that happened, Red had never raised a hand to him. Another change for the Aboveground and Edge blinked hard, inexplicably hurt in a way that had nothing to do with the blow.

Red’s eye lights were blazing and Edge nearly shrank from the heat of his crimson gaze. “you shut your fucking mouth about my baby brother,” Red told him, low, “and you get out of this fucking room before i drag you out. you hear me?”

For a long moment there was nothing in the universe but the two of them, the surface world melting away and it was like being Underground, Red warning him, watching out for him, always. 

Edge looked away first, muttering out, “Fine.”

Sharp fingertips caught his chin, forcing him to look back. Red studied his face for a long moment, searching for what, Edge didn’t know. Finally, he nodded. “good. you want to be something here? that’s just fine but you ain’t gonna find it laying here molding in this fucking room. go get some of your own clothes, at least, you look like paps’s stunt double.”

That stung almost as much as the slap. Edge rolled to his feet, glancing reluctantly at the dresser where the single pair of jeans and a clean t-shirt proclaiming the wearer a ‘font geek’ waited for him. “I will if you leave. I’ll go out today.”

“good enough.” Red turned away, hesitating at the door to call over his shoulder, “and bro? just talk to him. lance the boil.”

Edge paused with the fresh t-shirt halfway over his head. “Lance a boil? What does that even mean?” 

Red’s unpleasant smile said that he noticed Edge said nothing about talking to anyone, but he seemed willing to let that go for now. “google it, if you’re brave. doctor pimple popper changed my whole fucking life.”

* * *

_Sixth Step_

He could admit, grudgingly, that his brother was right. It was better to get out of the room. Despite his fears that Blue would think he was intruding, he was instead delighted for help around the house. And also for a trip to the mall, and while being around so many Humans was discomfiting, the store was one that catered to Monsters and knew Blue well. They helped Edge find some clothing more suited to his own tastes. Jeans and plainer t-shirts, a comfortable leather jacket and boots. 

He started to spend more time with Blue in the kitchen, helping him make dinner and fold laundry. In the afternoon, he took a walk around the block and it was uncomfortable how many of the other Monsters called out greetings to him, offering smiles at his mere presence when in the Underground Monsters would scurry hastily out of his path, casting furtive glances at him as they fled. Strange, yes, but he was slowly getting used to it. He’d even called Dyna back, no longer Undyne he reminded himself, and hesitantly asked about her work at the Embassy. Her enthusiasm very nearly left bruises through the phone line, but he was going in tomorrow. Just to see what she did. 

It was better, some, and Edge was mostly doing all right, he thought. 

Mostly. 

“Could you please take out the trash for me?” Blue asked from his position on the stepstool. He was teaching Edge to make fresh pasta and while it was nothing like Und--Dyna’s methods, he had no doubt the taste would be better. 

The bin next to Blue was close to overflowing. “Of course.”

Edge gathered up the bag, pulling the drawstring tight to carry it outside to the cans. Even trash was something of an anomaly here, it was honestly appalling what was thrown away. In Underfell, he would have used those vegetable scraps for stock. He’d watched a show on Netflix about composting, perhaps he could—

He stopped. Stretch was standing at the end of the driveway, right next to the bin where the trash cans were stored. He was leaning against the side, smoking and the way he was turned meant he hadn’t seen Edge yet. Perhaps that was why he was still there. 

Lance the boil, Red had said, and the videos had been revolting enough to nearly send him gagging to the toilet, but Edge did get the metaphor. He walked closer as silently as he could, half-expected Stretch to simply teleport away as he said, softly, “Stretch?”

Stretch didn’t vanish into the void, but he did startle, whirling around to look at him. Again, the memory of before overlapped with the now. He was wearing another button up, this one a deep green that made for a lovely contrast with his magic. The cigarette held loosely between his fingers was familiar, the lazy slouch, those pale eye lights set into a well-known face. Less so was his closed off expression, coolly assessing Edge even as he raised the cigarette to take a long, slow drag, breathing out a cloud of smoke. 

“really?” he snorted. “you’ve been here for how long and don’t even know that i don’t go by stretch anymore?” He dropped the still smoldering butt into a coffee can that was sitting at the base of the trash bin, fishing a pack out of his shirt pocket and Edge only stood, trash bag still in his hands as he watched Stretch…not-Stretch?...go through the ritual of lighting another, closing his lighter with a decisive flick. Words came, couched with another breath of smoke. “decided that papyrus getting to claim the whole name was bullshit. i’ve been rus for two years now.” His smile was sharp enough to cut and Edge dimly wondered if it had, because his soul felt it like a wound. “if you’re looking for a chance at a name change, paps is pretty much taken, but hey, pyr is always an option.”

Edge’s mouth felt too-dry, his tongue stiff as he managed, “My apologies. Rus. I…you’re still smoking.” 

It was the wrong thing to say. Rus chuckled unpleasantly and took another long drag, tongue curling as he exhaled a perfect smoke ring. “and you’re still charmingly observant.” He started to turn away, “see you around, edgelord.”

“Wait,” Edge blurted, fumbling for words that needed to be said, because if he didn’t lance this, the infection would spread. Spread and deepen, until the damage was too much to bear. “Please. I...I only wanted to apologize. For hurting you.”

“for hurting me,” Stretch, no, damn it, Rus, said slowly. “oh, well, go on then, let’s hear it. i mean, not that you didn’t have plenty to say that last time. what was it you said? oh, do let me think.” He tapped a long finger against his teeth, face twisted into mocking thought. “can’t recollect it all, but i seem to remember it ended with you saying that i was no better than a cheap whore that needed to get the fuck out of your world, think that was it.”

The ugliness of those words made Edge flinch as they hadn’t when he’d said them in the Underground, each one spoken with cold deliberation while Rus stood in front of him, silent tears trailing down his face. 

“I know.” Edge hated the desperation in his voice, unable to stop it. “I know what I said was unforgivable, but I couldn’t let you stay underground for me. You needed to be on the surface with your brother. Saying those things was the only way I could think to drive you away.” On the surface, where he belonged and Edge never did. 

“yeah, i know.” The tip of Rus’s cigarette glowed cherry-red as he inhaled, a cylinder of ash falling to the ground. 

Edge stared at him, uncomprehending. “You...know?”

Rus laughed humorlessly. “of course i know, how fucking stupid do you think i am? you think i didn’t know what you were doing?” Rus offered him a thin, sour smile. “not at the time, of course. had to give it a think. see, what gets me is you thinking you get to decide for both of us what’s best, just like you always did. don’t know why i expected anything else.” Rus flicked his cigarette butt into the rusty coffee can. ”that all you had?”

“Yes.” The trash bag was still heavy in his hands, but Edge struggled with the urge to simply flee back inside and...he didn’t know. Crawl back into his bed? Hide in his room again, away from the world and the overbearing sun?

The pain in his soul only worsened as Rus’s mouth twisted, “so that’s it, huh. what were you hoping for? to step right back in like nothing changed? it’s been three years, edge. i’m not even the same person anymore. i wasn’t sitting around with a thumb up my ass waiting for you.”

“I never expected you to,” Edge whispered numbly. He’d hoped for the exact opposite, wanted him to be happy. He’d spent three years imagining Rus on the surface, spent nights torturing himself with thoughts of who he might be with, what he might be doing, never expecting to ever stand before him and see he was still alone. “I only wanted—”

He couldn’t finish, choking on the words. Edge clumsily brushed past Rus to the trash bins, tossing the bag in his hands inside without even looking and turned away. Before he could head back towards the house, a hand lashed out, catching him by the elbow and if Rus tried to strike him, slap him as Red had or simply send an attack at him, Edge would have let him. 

Instead, Rus only said, lightly, “i mean, after all this time? if you’re gonna start over, you need a first date, and you haven’t even asked me out.”

It took a moment for those words to penetrate and when they did, the thin trickle of hope was nearly unbearable, like the first ray of sunshine after a lifetime of darkness. “I wouldn’t know where to take you.”

“huh. good point,” Rus said, thoughtfully. “sounds like it's up to me and luckily, i have learned all the best places in ebott. i could take you bowling.”

“I only have the vaguest idea what that is,” Edge admitted.

“good because i suck at it.” That soft, lopsided smile was one Edge knew, so terribly well, his own private sunshine from beneath the mountain that he’d learned to live without and if it was tremulous, uncertain, it firmed as Rus said, softly, ”i've missed you, you shit.”

Hearing that made his soul soar, shedding that leftover pain. Edge took a shaky breath, let it out. “I missed you, too. Rus.”

That precious, perfect smile widened. “nah, you don’t know rus yet. but you will.”

Rus held out his hand and Edge took it, curling their fingers gently together. His hand was warm and so was his mouth, still faintly smoky and layered with sweetness beneath. There was a strange spice as well, salty-wet, and Edge only realized it was his own tears when Rus cupped his face with his free hand, trying and failing to smooth them away. 

“shh, it’s okay,” Rus whispered against his mouth, “it’ll be okay, i promise. come on.” He let Rus pull him along, following behind and ready to go anywhere at all as he led them both out into the sun. 

Maybe, just maybe, Edge could find a place here, after all. 

-finis-


End file.
